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A Mommy Blog for Those Who Never Wanted to Author/Read a Mommy Blog

An Open Letter to the Big Kids Formerly Known as Baby L and Baby O

Dear Big Kids,

Mommy has been a bit of a slacker on these open letter things. And, you know, on writing in general. Mommy is lame. But, by the time you read this, you will be WELL aware of that. And you will probably even have some other really colorful adjectives to describe Mommy too! Can’t wait!

Either way, I thought it was about time to get on in here and write you a little letter to let you know what you have been doing lately to drive me batshit insane make the world a hilarious and beautiful place to live.

We had some big changes in 2017. We bought our first house! It was something that your Daddy and I were super excited to get to do for you. We wanted to make sure that you had a place to be your “forever home”. And by “forever home”, I mean, the home that you live in until you are old enough to get a real job and make money so that you can move out and Daddy and I can start to day drink and do crossword puzzles in the hot tub (you know, the hot tub that we can’t afford until you get out of our house). Anyway, so yeah! We bought you a house! This should explain to you why you only got 250 Shopkins and race cars for Christmas instead of the 35 million others that you asked for. Just remember that. WE BOUGHT YOU A HOUSE.

L: You turned 5 in 2017! I can’t even believe that you aren’t that squishy, big cheeked baby that you were yesterday. Or, I guess…5 years ago…but whatever, you get it. You are sooooo talkative. You talk ALL. THE. TIME. And you know everything. You do. You will tell anyone who asks. You are the smartest. (You really are super smart, but you’re sometimes really damn annoying about it. Until you start designing rockets or curing cancer after school, we can do without all the “I KNOW. I am SO SMART” business. Just saying.) You love Kindergarten. Your teacher, Ms. Smith, tells me often how super sweet you are. You are. You are so sensitive and lovely and caring to everyone. And it warms my heart to see you blossom in this way. I do worry sometimes that people might take advantage of your kindness and I have to push this out of my head and remember to be cognizant of your feelings and watch the people who surround you. I feel so fiercely protective of you that sometimes it physically hurts me. Sometimes, I think that you just need a little time to develop your resting bitch face so that you can mask all that sweetness and keep the assholes away. I will be there, though. I can give you tips on that, for sure.

You are a bossy little thing. You love art and music and are sassy as hell. Currently, you talk back a little too much for my liking but I have a feeling this might just be a way for you to test the waters and see what you can get away with. (For the record, the answer is NOTHING, dammit.) You are about 42 lbs now and your favorite color is purple. Your best friend is a little boy named Aiden and when we went to your Open House for your class, you and he held hands and ran around and it made me so happy. (Your Daddy was not as pleased about this but…I mean…I don’t think that is going to change, like, EVAR.) You have nearly perfect grades in school and you love to PLAY IN THE DIRT….WHICH MAKES ME WANT TO STICK MY HEAD IN THE OVEN. (PLEASE STOP IT WITH THE DIRT ALREADY!) I will forgive you this for now. FOR NOW. But only because you are my first born and I am fairly certain you will take care of me when I am old. Maybe. You love tacos, and pizza but mostly, CHILI. Oh my god, I hope this passes soon because I used to really love chili and now I feel like I make it every other day and I am pretty sure that I am now 83% beans. But as long as you want it, my dear, I will make it. (And then I will eat popcorn and cheese for dinner instead. Because that is what love is.)

O: Oh my goodness. You turned 4 in 2017! And you started preschool! And you were SOOOOOO devastated that you wouldn’t have a whole three hours alone with me every day to help me with grocery shopping and going to the post office. I have to say, it took a minute to get you to feel good about going to school but you are doing great now. (You still refuse to eat or drink anything there, which is puzzling but I think it might just be because that is still something you get to do with me which your sister is not home. But OH, THE DRAMATICS!) Your teacher is a very nice lady named Miss Eunice who Daddy thinks doesn’t speak English at all, but really she just speaks quickly and without any enunciation at all. It makes me wonder how in the hell you are learning anything. But you are! You can understand her, which just proves that you are ALSO a super smarty pants. Duh. The teachers at school call you “Smart Guy” and you have a few little friends in your class.

You, unlike your sister, do NOT like to get dirty. It is somewhat unavoidable since you are a boy and a boy is basically a loud noise that is covered in dirt. But you are surprisingly better at keeping your clothes and hands clean than your sister is. (She is a HOT DAMN MESS.) You love noodles of any variety. And pizza. And BACON. (If you weren’t obsessed with bacon, I’m quite sure your dad would insist you weren’t his. But you look just like him and I am pretty sure that if you could, you would push me in front of a moving car to get to the bacon.)

You are the absolute best cuddler in the whole world. You are the perfect size now where you fit right beside me and I can wrap my arm perfectly around you and it is my favorite place in the world to be. You are a wonderful little dude. You are quite particular about EVERYTHING. I feel like you are going to be the guy who breaks up with his long time girlfriend because she puts the toilet paper roll on upside-down. (I will be almost not mad at this because, 1. You can’t have a girlfriend, you are my son and 2. I HATE THAT TOO.) We are working together to mellow you out a bit. You seem to be taking after me in this department and I’m not worried (YET) but we need to make sure you aren’t 20 and screaming at a waitress because of the tomato snot that is still lingering on your sandwich so that you KNOW that they put a nasty tomato on it and then took it off when they double checked the ticket. (Not that this has ever happened to me or anything…) Anyway…working on it.

You kiddos have grown so much and are SO FULL OF PERSONALITY that it both breaks and warms my heart simultaneously. Sometimes when I am hugging/cuddling/looking at you both, I get all sad because I know that this time with you is so fleeting. It breaks me into pieces to think about it. But then I am comforted and hopeful. Comforted that you are becoming such amazing little humans (maybe both because of and despite my influence) and hopeful that I will get to be there to see you through on your journey and offer you all that I have to give you. I hope that you never have to wonder how much you both mean to me and how loved that you are by me. I am your biggest fan. I am that idiot at the sporting events who is completely covered in body paint and is screaming like a moron and waving a giant foam finger. I am that guy for you. (And when you picture this guy, I want you to do it right. He is painted half blue, he is shirtless, balding, and has a giant beer belly. Because if you are going to do it…well…give it all you got.) Just remember that. I am your big, fat, drunken, blue sports fan. I love you both with everything I am. I can’t wait the circus that is to come.

Love this. I’m (almost) always so downtrodden and weepingly sentimental about my aging (ages 7-10) babies when I write about them, but in person they make me want to lock them in the dungeon with the dragons. I so appreciate your absolute honesty, the love, the dirt, the beans. Made me chuckle out loud. Hope we get to see your writing more in the new year!